


A Very Parkbarrow Valentine's Day

by afewreelthoughts



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: M/M, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-04
Updated: 2015-03-04
Packaged: 2018-03-16 06:43:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3478295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afewreelthoughts/pseuds/afewreelthoughts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Andy writes Thomas a card for Valentine's Day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Thomas Barrow almost turned his nose up at the card before him.  For the first time in over ten years, he had something to open on Valentine’s Day.  He looked at it as though it would bite him.

“Is this some kind of joke?” Thomas held up the card in front of John Bates’s surprised face.

“Why would I send you a Valentine, Barrow?” Bates snarked, so bitterly that Thomas fully believed for a moment that it was a joke, it must be, and he almost threw the card at Bates's nasty face.

But that would accomplish nothing, and so he sat down with a frown on his face.

“Why don’t you open it first?” Andy said casually from down the table while examining his cup of tea.  “See what it says before you jump to any conclusions?”

So Thomas opened the envelope.

Andy knew the pink paper stock with red roses was too girly for Thomas, but all the other valentines Andy found in London had had pictures of naked babies, or worse, women and men kissing, and Andy didn’t want to give Thomas the wrong idea.  He had gone up to London on his free day to visit friends, buy a Valentine’s card for Thomas, and pour his heart out.  Anonymously, of course.  Not good to put anything like that in writing, he knew.

Though Thomas didn’t seem to be a sappy sort of man, just because you couldn’t see that part of him, Andy knew, didn’t mean it wasn’t there.

Everyone sitting at the table had stopped eating breakfast and waited silently as Thomas opened his valentine’s card.  Andy thought it was rude of the staff to marvel so much over Thomas getting a valentine.

“What’s it say?” Miss Baxter asked.

“Nothin’ much,” Thomas said, blushing.  “Excuse me for a moment.”

“What’s gotten into him?” said Bates.

“He got a valentine’s card, that’s what,” Andy said.

“I know that,” Bates said and nearly rolled his eyes, “but from whom?”

“That’s not really our business, is it, darling?” Anna said softly.

“What’s happened to Barrow?” said Carson as he entered the room.

“He got a valentine,” said Miss Baxter.

Carson’s face turned a disturbing array of pinks and reds before he squared his shoulders.  He cleared his throat and took his seat at the head of the table.  

“I don’t suppose that could do any harm,” he said to Mrs. Hughes in a voice too quiet for anyone to hear, anyone who was not paying as close attention as Andy, that is.

“What harm could it do?” his fiancee smiled at him and laid her hand on top of his.

Thomas walked about in a daze the rest of the morning.  Andy watched him with a smile on his face.  Thomas was a smart man, and he’d figure out the author of his valentine soon enough.

“What’re you doing loitering about?” Thomas said.

Andy had been lost in a daze himself, leaning against a wall in the bootroom, Lord Grantham's riding boots forgotten on the table in the center of the room.

“Can’t a man have a moment of rest, Barrow?”

“A man, yes.  A footman, no.”  Thomas smiled and closed the door behind them.

“Oh, Barrow, don’t envy me.  The under butler must be busier than a footman on any given day.  You know that.”

“No, actually, I don’t.  I've got a half-day today.  And you know that I’m not so old I don’t have some tricks for getting out of work up my sleeve…” Thomas said, leaning on the large table.

Andy knew he was blushing. “I’d like to see them.”

With that Thomas whipped out Andy’s card.  “Got this today.”

“I saw.  You like it?”

“You have no idea,” Thomas sighed.  “Here I was, thinking I was finished, and here comes a chance to hope again…”

“To hope for what?” Andy, leaning on the table himself now and slightly out of breath.

“Jimmy.”

“Who?”  Andy said.

“You remember Jimmy Kent, the footman I told you about?”

“The blond one?  Yes, why?”  Andy felt the corners of his mouth dipping into a frown.

“He has feelings for me after all!”  Thomas beamed.  “He told me so right here.”

“How - what…” Andy’s heart sank.  “How do you know it’s from him?”

“He lives in London, and here, in the letter, he thanks me for saving him, and remember that I - ”

“Saved him from a gang beneath a bridge at the fair four years ago,” Andy said.

“Something wrong, Andy?” Thomas asked, concerned.

“Nothing,” Andy said and put on a smile.  It was his job as a footman to look pleasant at all times.  And if he could do it for Lord and Lady Grantham, he could do it for Thomas.


	2. Chapter 2

After luncheon, Daisy found Andy sulking about the kitchen.

“Don’t ya have work to do?” she said, taking a tray of cakes out of the oven.

“Not at the moment,” he grumbled.

“What are ya down about?”  She walked over to the cakes that had cooled earlier and started applying a liberal coat of icing.  “If yer looking for Thomas, he went out to the village an hour ago.”

“No, I’m not looking for Thomas,” Andy snapped.

Daisy smiled to herself.  “Alright.  What is it then?”

He kicked the floor and took a deep breath.  “It’s nothing.”

“It might not be my place, Andy,” she said, “but I know something’s wrong.  Are you sad ya didn’t get a valentine?”

“No.”

“But you want someone to notice you who won’t, that’s it, right?”

Something changed on Andy’s face imperceptible to the normal eye.

“Nobody’s gonna notice ya if ya don’t ask for them to.”  Daisy popped one finger in her mouth to lick off the spilled icing.  “Believe me.  I know.”

"You mean ask them to..." He shook his head.  “I can’t do that.”

“Course ya can.”

“I can’t.  I’m not some…” He waved his hand. “…some Jimmy Kent.”

“Yeah, and that’s a good thing.”  She insisted.  “Jimmy Kent brought nothing but trouble to this house and broke more than Thomas’s heart by the time he left.  He never were my type.  Too arrogant.  I went through all that with Thomas ten years back.  Not gonna do it again.”

“You fancied Thomas?” Andy asked.

“Don’t look at me.”  Daisy blushed.  “I were a silly girl.”

“I’m sure you weren’t.  He’s… very fancy-able.”  Daisy looked up at him, and Andy caught himself.  “I mean, I understand why you thought he was…”

“Handsome?”

“Yes!  No!”

“Oh, Andy," she said, "you should tell him how ya feel.”

“I don’t feel anything for him, Daisy.  He’s a good friend, that’s all.”

“Then why are ya so down about it?”

“He still cares about this Jimmy Kent more than he cares about… anyone else.  He thinks Jimmy sent him the valentine.”

“But you did, right?”

Andy said nothing.

“Tell him,” Daisy pleaded.

“Not on your life," Andy said.

“Why not?”

"It’ll break his heart.”

“If Thomas goes and does something stupid, it’ll be your fault, I hope you realize that, Andrew Parker.”  She wiped off her hands on her apron.  "And I think you two would be good together."

"Really?"

"I thought you and me would be good together for a while there, but I think I've had enough of footmen.  Yer sweet, Andy, ya really are, but… I don’t want to stay at Downton."

“Sophisticated woman like you can’t be tied down?”

“That’s right!” she said.  "Now go into the village and find Thomas, if you really haven't anything to do."

* * *

 

Thomas, meanwhile, had changed into his finest suit for his afternoon off and took the first train he could catch into London. 

Though Jimmy had never written letters to him, per se, he had gotten a couple of telegrams, so he knew that Jimmy was 

_"Working as a waiter at the Palm Court at Selfridge's STOP Find it humiliating after being footman STOP But not that many people hiring help these days STOP"_

So Thomas knew exactly where he needed to go.  If he couldn't find Jimmy at the restaurant, then he'd never find him, but it was worth the trouble.  Everything he'd said in that letter made it worth the trouble.

Thomas took off his hat when he went into the restaurant.  The place was extravagantly designed, with stained-glass windows and mirrors everywhere.  Every corner seemed to have its own giant potted plant.  Thomas felt like he was crossing over into a world that he’d been barred from his whole life.  

“Table for one, please,” he told the waiter at the entrance of the restaurant.

“It’s Valentine’s Day, sir,” the man said, and Thomas feared he’d say he wasn’t allowed a table for one.  “We’re full up for dinner, sir.”

“Actually I’m just looking for a friend of mine, Jimmy Kent?  He works as a waiter here.”

“I’m afraid he’s busy and won’t be off work for a while.”

“That’s fine!”  Thomas breathed a sigh of relief that he was in the right place.  “Can I wait somewhere?”

The man looked at the paper on the podium before him.  “There is space at the bar, if you’d like a drink.”

“Yes, of course.”

The bar at Selfridge’s was full of men and women in wealthy clothes desperately trying to start conversations.  They all looked terribly ill at ease with each other, occasionally glancing over their shoulders to look at the happy couples at tables behind them.

“What brings you here?” a woman perched on the empty seat beside Thomas.  She was not very young, but not nearly as old as Lady Anstruther.  She played with a long, long necklace with gloved hands.  Her eyes were slightly unfocused, from one too many drinks, he guessed.

“I’m…” Thomas didn’t want to turn the woman down outright.  She was alone on Valentine’s Day, after all.  “I’m waiting for a friend, but they won’t be around in a while…” Thomas glanced over his shoulder and caught a glimpse of Jimmy waiting tables.  The high collar of his uniform made him stand as tall as ever, and his hair was perfectly shaped into a golden wave. “… and I’d be happy to talk to you.  I must say, I am taken.”

Thomas expected the woman to frown prettily and storm off.  Instead she smiled.  “That’s alright, I just wanted someone to talk with, really.”

That evening over drinks, Thomas found out that the woman's name was Kate and that she was the youngest of three in her family.  Her elder brother and sister, both happily married, had invited her to spend the holiday with them, and she’d refused, saying she had a date.  Her family was titled, but in recent years they’d invested in a printing company.

“I wouldn’t be telling you all this, if I weren’t tipsy,” she said, and rested her head on her hand.

Thomas in turn told her that he worked at a country home and had been a medic in the war.  He’d come up to London on his half day to meet a friend, who had promised to take him on a double date with two women he knew.

“This friend of yours, he’s taken, too?” Kate asked.

“Yes, I’m afraid so,” Thomas said, though the words didn’t sound true, even to him.  

Spending the evening with Kate had been pleasant, so pleasant Thomas had almost forgotten that he had a confrontation coming up, an altogether unpleasant one: “Did you mean those things you wrote, or were you just joking with me, like you were with Lady Anstruther?”

Jimmy was walking across the restaurant in his everyday clothes now, and Thomas pretended Kate had said something fascinating, and that he hadn’t yet noticed him.

“Thomas!  My god, so good to see you!”  Jimmy clapped a hand on his shoulder.  “Got a friend to cover for me when I heard you were here.”

“Jimmy,” Thomas sounded breathless and sappy even to himself.  “Can we go somewhere and talk?”

“Course we can!”

“It’s been nice meeting you, Kate,” Thomas said, leaving enough money on the table to cover his drinks.

The place they found to be alone was a small alley about a block away.  It looked safe and clean, but the bitter wind blew through it so hard it threatened to knock them from their feet, or at least tear away their clothes.

“My place is a bit further away, and I figured you wanted privacy,” Jimmy said, sitting down on a crate and blowing on his hands.

“I wanted to ask if you meant all the things you wrote,” Thomas blurted out, standing close to Jimmy so he would not have to shout over the whistling wind.

“What?” Jimmy said.

“All those things you wrote me, in the letter.  The one I got today?” Thomas said louder.

“What letter?” Jimmy said clearly.

Thomas’s heart sank and he wanted to run away.  How could he be so stupid?  

He handed Jimmy the valentine.

“Thomas… this isn’t my writing.  I’ve been known to… write to friends under the influence... and also to write valentines as a joke, but this isn’t my writing.”  Thomas bit his cold lip and held himself.  “You came all this way… because you thought - ”

“Never mind what I thought,” Thomas said.  “I was wrong, wasn’t I?  I’m always wrong about these things.”

Jimmy folded the valentine and tucked it into Thomas’s coat pocket.

“It is good to see you.  Can you stay the night?  There's a small couch in my flat.”

“No, I can’t stay, Jimmy!”  Thomas snapped.  “I need to be back at Downton first thing in the morning.”

“How is Downton?” Jimmy said warmly.  “I miss it.  I miss everyone there, especially you.”  He rubbed his hands together.  The wool on his mittens made a scratching sound.  “You know I consider you my best friend.”

Thomas started to cry, but the tears froze on his face.

“Gosh, I’m so sorry!” Jimmy said.

“It’s not… you… it’s… if it weren’t you… the valentine is some kind of sick joke.”

“There’s nobody else you know who’d want to send you a valentine?” Jimmy asked.

Thomas thought immediately about Andy.  But he shook his head.  He’d made that mistake before, he wouldn’t make it again.

“If I leave now, I can make the last train back to Downton.  Goodbye, Jimmy.”

Jimmy put his arms around Thomas and rested his head on his chest.  Thomas wanted to pull away, but he felt himself warming, and so he wrapped his arms around Jimmy in a quick embrace.

When they parted, Thomas wiped the tears from his eyes.  “There’s a young woman named Kate at the bar in the Palm Court.  You should buy her something to eat.”


	3. Chapter 3

Thomas was practically alone on the train back from London that night, everyone else in the country seemingly wrapped tight with a loved one at home. He tried to sleep.

When the train pulled up to the village station, Thomas was the only one getting off.  Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a tall figure draped over one of the benches.  Probably a poor man who had nowhere else to sleep tonight.  Thomas grimaced when he realized he’d have to walk right past the man.  But the closer he got, the more familiar he looked.

“Andy?” Thomas said.

“Mm?” Andy opened his eyes and stretched his stiff muscles.  “Thomas!  I was looking for you.”  He yawned.

“Out here in this weather?  Waiting for me?”

“Mm-hm.”

Jimmy’s words echoed in his head.   _“There’s nobody else you know who’d want to send you a valentine?”_

 _“_ Now what would you be doing that for?”  Thomas asked and sat next to him on the bench.

“I…” Andy wet his lips.  “It’s cold, isn't it?”

“Very, yes,” Thomas scooted closer to Andy.  Andy didn’t move.

“I… wanted to stop you from going to London.  Or, barring that, see you when you came back.”  Thomas looked at him, and Andy met his eyes.  “Because Jimmy didn’t send you that valentine, I did.”

The train had long ago pulled out of the station, and they were alone.

Thomas kissed Andy, gently and just for a second.  “Why didn’t you tell me?” he said.

“I…” Andy caught his breath.  “I didn’t think you’d go to London!  And… I didn’t know if you’d want me like I wanted you.”

Thomas kissed him again, and this time Andy parted his lips.  They wrapped their arms around each other, and the air about them warmed by several degrees.

Thomas felt something deep within him stirring, something he never could explain, and had learned not to trust.  If they were going to make this work, it would take time and effort.  But Thomas didn't want to say that tonight.  He just wanted to enjoy this.

“Do you… want to walk back?” Andy asked.

“Let’s go,” Thomas said.


End file.
